


heartless loveless

by 10velysweetfantasy



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Ambiguous Relationships, Blood and Gore, I don't know how to tag this, M/M, Mildly confusing, Non-Linear Narrative, Unspecified Setting, ships probably won't appear/seem clear until the next chapter, yuwinil may occur
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-25
Updated: 2019-05-25
Packaged: 2020-03-17 07:10:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18960388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/10velysweetfantasy/pseuds/10velysweetfantasy
Summary: Johnny's past comes back to haunt him and this time, it's claimed Doyoung and Yuta too.





	heartless loveless

**Author's Note:**

> this has been my baby for the past couple of weeks and i actually haven't talked that much about it except with kai and hayden, so thank you loves for dealing with me! i'm mildly nervous about this but anyways i hope you like it!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please enjoy my absolute baby that i've been working on! it's been my project for a couple weeks now so thank you to hayden and kai who have listened to me talk about it! some parts aren't edited as well and the ships will be more prominent next chapter. feel free to leave theories, questions, or whatever in the comments, they inspire me very much!

Salty water fills his mouth, soft and bitter all the same, burning his insides. It singes his lungs, his intestines, even his skin and his tongue. He swallows it, laughing even as his stomach lurches and blood and bile coat his throat. He supposes that if he were anyone else that right now tears would be streaming down his face, mixing with the water already drenching his body. He’s not normal, he never has been, and this is a fact he has accepted and will live with.

 

“Your reckoning will come,” he babbles, _gurgles_ , with bloody lips and an aching jaw. His inky hair clings to his pale skin, obscuring his vision. He can’t see anything nor does he want to, he wants to float, to _drown_. And he will, because he wills it to be this way and for some reason fate favors him. Despite it all, he is still favored, still loved.

 

Hands grip at his arms so tightly that he yelps not unlike a wounded wild animal. He’s dragged  from the water, limp but grinning, his lips pulling so tightly that his skin begins to ache from the movement.

 

“ _Wake up._ ”

 

Sputtering, convulsing, screaming he _does_. He awakes, and violently at that, tearing at his clothes and sheets desperate to be freed. Freed of what, he does not know but he can’t shake the feeling that he’s being confined, contained. The feeling causes his skin and bones to crawl, tearing his insides into little shreds that push up his esophagus. He can’t help himself despite knowing Doyoung and Johnny will be furious; he throws up all over the floor, head hanging helplessly over the edge of his bed.

 

He gasps and sobs, body shaking with the severity of it all. When his stomach finally stops lurching and his skin stills once again, he slumps back onto his mattress rubbing furiously at his face. It’s quiet for several moments and then there’s footsteps, shuffling down the hall and into his room. The light flicks on, causing him to wince away and throw his hand over his eyes.

 

“Again?” Doyoung’s voice is far from irritated as Yuta had first expected, rather it’s soft, it’s concerned. Yuta blinks behind his hand before peeling it away to peer at his companion, eyes wide and teary. Unless you were to know Doyoung well, you would find him intimidating, but Yuta does know better, bottom lip quivering. “Oh, Yuta…”

 

“Make it stop,” his voice cracks, hands shaking violently as he reaches through the shadows of his room for his best friend. Doyoung slips and slides across the floor, carefully avoiding the mess Yuta has made. He crawls into the bed, arms threading around Yuta and rubbing his back soothingly. His chest is firm and warm beneath Yuta’s head where he rests it, he can hear a steady heartbeat, calming and consistent unlike anything else in their lives.

 

Doyoung cards a hand through Yuta’s dark unruly hair, humming an aimless unrecognizable tune. Yuta almost wishes he can lay there for eternity, in Doyong’s protective embrace his soft voice wrapping him in a lovely metaphorical blanket where nothing harmful can ever reach him.

Doyoung’s lips press against Yuta’s forehead, warm and lingering. “Sleep, Yuta. I’ll clean up your mess and then be right back okay?”

 

Yuta feels immobilized, unable to speak, although he doesn’t have any ideas on what to say either. He watches through half slitted eyes as Doyoung kneels on the floor, cleaning up the mess as quickly as he can. Yuta grips at the sheets again, restless without Doyoung’s arms there to pin him down. It’s only moments later when the light is being flicked off again and Doyoung’s body is being pressed against Yuta’s once more.

 

In the darkness, the silence, the warmth, Yuta mouths with complete clarity, “Sicheng.”

 

* * *

 

 

 

Jaehyun and Sicheng are in all ways, unassuming. Especially if you don’t know them beyond their sweets smile, honeyed eyes, and flushed cheeks. But Doyoung and Yuta, even Johnny, does know. Jaehyun’s doughy dimples and Sicheng’s bordering on coy glances betray what lies beneath and this is what bothers Yuta the most. He wants so badly to succumb, allow himself to be pulled into Sicheng’s arms, have their lips meet.

 

But he knows. He knows it can never be and for this reason alone, as he holds Johnny’s hand lazily ambling for the coffee shop next to the university, he averts his eyes. Johnny’s fingers close tighter around Yuta’s own, sensing the change in his companion’s demeanor.

 

“Ignore them,” Johnny utters quietly enough that the boys’ he speaks of won’t hear him. Yuta nods, his eyes dropping to the ground to concentrate on his scuffed up shoes. They’re old and worn out, he prefers a roof over his head than new sneakers though so he’ll live. Johnny runs his fingers up Yuta’s arm, startling him, but it’s only to steer them into the cafe.

 

Out of the corner of his eye, Yuta notices that Jaehyun’s eyes bore into Johnny, as if he knows something about the older that Johnny himself is even unaware of. Yuta, amused, briefly considers that this could be true. This is an unsettling fact he lives with, simple as living and breathing, simple as ignoring Sicheng’s smile so hauntingly similar to the one stamped into his brain from restless nights.

 

Yuta’s lungs find relief as he steps into the cafe and he realizes he had been holding his breath without even noticing.

 

He’s prepared to wind down before him and Johnny have to return home to Doyoung for dinner, but eyes settle on Johnny and his bones chill when he notices the source. Johnny is just as frozen, muscles tense, as if they’re trying to tell if it’s time to fight or to propel Johnny far far far away. He trembles nearly imperceptible, his legs like tree branches rattling in the beginning wind of a storm.

 

Yuta desperately digs his fingers into Johnny’s arm to ground him but Johnny is still staring at the two men, plump lips pressing together so firmly they turn several shades paler. Yuta wants to speak, wants to comfort Johnny, but his vocal chords are severed, useless.

 

The smaller of the men smiles and his teeth glint dangerously beneath the shitty lighting, golden light from the window illuminating only one half of his face. The other half dances with shadows, darkening his features to something threatening and alluring all at once. Johnny shudders as the strange man runs his tongue over his lips then his teeth.

 

The man across from the smaller dark haired one reaches out, cups his face and slots their lips together. Johnny lets out a pained exhale and is released from whatever spell it is that binds him  to the men, jerking his head away so harshly it seems painful. Yuta reaches up with shaking fingers to rub at the muscles in Johnny’s neck.

 

Johnny offers a small but grim smile, resting a hand on his back and leading him into the line. At this time of day, there aren’t many customers and it makes both Yuta and Johnny jittery. If Doyoung had come with them, then surely no one would have tried to leer at them, manipulate them. For some reason, despite their strength, they’re underestimated frequently.

 

But never by the men that greet them at the counter with warm grins and even warmer eyes.

 

“Johnny, Yuta,” Taeil greets them, his lips pulled up into his typical shy smile. It had taken Yuta and Johnny months for Taeil get to comfortable with them, but it seems to be paying off now. Taeil’s grin is infectious as he moves with effortless grace, not having to ask his patrons what their order is. It’s almost embarrassing how often they visit for a caffeine fix.

 

Taeyong is nowhere in sight which isn’t exactly out of the norm. Somedays it’s just Taeil, somedays its just Taeyong, and somedays if they’re lucky it's both of them. Johnny nudges Yuta between his shoulder blades, jerking his head towards a table near the front windows that looks out onto the street. Yuta smiles, though it feels odd and stretched, only because he knows why Johnny is being doting today.

 

“I’ll make sure to catch up with you before I go,” Yuta directs to Taeil apologetically. He’s second oldest out of his very small circle of friends (really only Johnny and Doyoung), but they fret over him so much it almost feels like _he’s_ the baby. Taeil nods understandingly, because even if he doesn’t know, even if he isn’t aware of the situation, he understands. In his own complex way, Taeil understands all the boys and their emotions and what goes on in their heads, and they never bother to question it.

 

Yuta flashes a smile back at him before he shuffles his feet across the shiny floor, wondering who out of the employees is so meticulous in their cleaning of it. It’s a fleeting thought that he contemplates for as long as it takes to get to his seat. He settles down in the chair, tapping his toes on the ground, eyes concentrated on the cobblestones. He’s lost in his thoughts, considering his dreams and Doyoung’s calming presence when the chairs across from his screech unbearably loud. Yuta opens his mouth, prepared to chastiste Johnny for being so insensitive to his ears wellbeing, and then he freezes.

 

The men peer at him with unconcealed amusement, hands intertwined and resting on the table between them. The blond one tilts his head, ignores Yuta and settles his eyes on Johnny. Johnny’s back tenses, feeling the gaze weigh heavy on his muscles like a physical load. Taeil shoots him a concerned glance as hands over the Iced Americano and Vanilla Latte, in response Johnny flashes his best attempt at a reassuring smile.

 

It does nothing to soothe Taeil’s concerns, that much is clear as his eyes track Johnny’s movements.

 

Johnny is uncertain in both his movements and motives, merely standing behind Yuta protectively. The younger doesn’t even reach for his coffee in Johnny’s hands, unfocused gaze drilling into the couple sitting opposite of him. The dark haired one giggles, his voice musical and elegant. His teeth gleam beneath the sunlight again and this time Johnny notices the way it illuminates the blond’s pale locks.

 

“Don’t look so terrified,” the dark one cooes, tilting his head forward as if he’s conspiring with the pair of best friends. “It’s not everyday that you come upon men of our status. You should be _bowing_.”

 

Johnny remains stiff as ever and Yuta is overwhelmed with the urge to cry, wondering if he’ll ever get used to the life he’s been dragged into unwillingly. _I was normal_ , circles through his head like a mantra, stress upon the word “was” because that’s his past and he will never be normal ever again.

 

The blond’s free hand reaches out, snatches up the Americano and wraps his plush lips around the straw. Johnny knows he’s already had a coffee, watched him lap it up when he had entered. He doesn’t say this though, instead he lets the stranger drink the coffee made especially for Johnny. He has no intentions of confrontation, but this all flies right out the window as the dark haired’s stranger slips the latte into his grip.

 

A shadow falls over the table, lithe and slender. All four men raise their eyes to meet Taeil’s eyes. His kind expression is gone, lips pressed together firmly and dark eyes staring a hole into the stranger’s.

 

“Those aren’t yours,” he points out in a quiet but accusatory voice. Both their mouths pop open in shock, but the dark haired one recovers first, settling  the disposable cup onto the table.

 

“Nice to meet you, Taeil,” he purrs out the printed letters on the name tag as if it is familiar. “You can call me Ten. We should become acquaintanced seeing as my lover and I will be visiting for some time.”

 

Taeil is unimpressed but his eyes momentarily dart over to the blond who smiles encouragingly, purring out his own, “Hello, Taeil. I’m Kun, it’s lovely to meet you.”  


Yuta feels a wave of protectiveness surge over him and he twists in his seat, meeting Johnny’s eyes. The question doesn’t need to be asked aloud; Johnny nods and that’s all that’s needed for Yuta to spring up from his seat, grasp Taeil’s wrist, and drag him away. Instantly, Ten pouts like a child who’s favorite play thing has been confiscated.

 

“I wasn’t going to hurt him,” Ten grumbles, clearly offended that Yuta and Johnny would ever think so lowly of him. Johnny slides into the chair Yuta abandoned, rolling his eyes in response to the statement, far from believing it. Kun gives Johnny an unimpressed look, as if offended by the fact that the older would even begin to question his morality. And is, in fact, true that Johnny is older even if Kun doesn’t often act like it.

 

Johnny jolts as if electricity has rushed through his body as Kun’s fingertips make contact with Johnny’s hand, stroking a line across the knuckles then down his long fingers. Ten tracks the movement with his eyes, pools of obsidian poured into orbs that glisten like stars. He seems wholesomely unbothered that Kun is stroking Johnny similar to a lover and Johnny almost finds this peculiar, but he knows how Ten is. If he felt truly threatened, Johnny would have been dead already.

 

“You’re not even happy to see us.” The way Kun states this makes it a fact and his face makes him seem petulant, which is one thing Johnny has never characterized him as. The petulant one out of the two before him is Ten, lashing out when he doesn’t get what he wants, destroying in the wake of his greed. Devastation was created in the truest rawest form within Ten and Kun.

 

“You’re right,” Johnny speaks around the cotton ball in his mouth. It’s harder than he would have thought, to affirm to such a dangerous being, that he had no desire to see him. Except, neither of the men are offended, instead, they grin, finding the situation amusing. “You promised to leave me alone. All of you did.”

 

“I know.” Ten doesn’t sound quite bothered by the broken promise. He never bats an eyelash at broken things, not at broken bones, not at broken hearts, and certainly not at such fickle things as a promise. “But you’re living with _him_ now, Nyny.”

 

The old nick name, buried beneath centuries of memories, is like a sharp stab to the heart. Quick, painful, but ultimately, harmful. From the tilt of the right side of Ten’s mouth, to the silent laughter dancing in his eyes, he knows the effect he’s created upon Johnny; he simply does not care, in fact, he enjoys it.

 

“Which one?” Johnny’s voice quivers, welling resentment towards himself forming in his chest. Showing fear of any sort before two beings created purely of darkness and power is foolish on his part, and if he wants to protect Doyoung and Yuta, mostly Yuta, he has to be stronger. “I don’t know what you think they have, but I assure you it’s nothing you want. You should leave while you still can.”

 

Kun’s laugh is beauty and light, but the darkness clouding over his face is paradoxical to the angelic energy he exudes. He leans close to Johnny, head angled slightly to the left, his eyes darting as he takes in the older man. “Are you threatening me?” His voice is hushed, but it doesn’t hide the iron edges of his voice. “Because I don’t think you’ll like what will happen if you are, my dear.”

 

Johnny’s heart, previously torn open from Ten’s carefully aimed arrow to it, stutters and stumbles. He knows better, and yet, he’s still making mistakes.

 

At a loss at how else to handle the conversation, he blurts out, “I have to go. Yu- my friend, we promised we’d return home soon. I’m sorry.”

 

He’s not sorry, but he’s sure his former comrades are aware of this as he jolts to his feet and speed walks across the length of the cafe. Before they can catch him or stop him, he slips through the door to the back room, exactly where he knows Taeil and Yuta will be waiting. Taeil is resting upon a crate of some sort of stock for the cafe and Yuta is pacing the small amount of free floor space.

 

Taeil’s eyes follow Yuta, and it’s in this moment that Johnny notices for the very first time the way Taeil _looks_ at Yuta. He freezes, unsure how to proceed, not wanting to interrupt, the moment seeming too tender without either participants aware of it. Yuta notices him first, thin but muscular arms throwing themselves around Johnny’s neck holding tight.

 

Johnny’s already damaged hurt spurts more blood, pain searing through his chest. It’s because of him and Doyoung that Yuta has been dragged not only into this situation, but into this world.

 

“Is everything okay?” Taeil’s voice is tentative, unsure. It’s good that he doesn’t understand, Johnny knows that Yuta wouldn’t forgive him if the barista was dragged into this. He peers over Yuta’s shoulder and nods, smiling kindly at the frowning man.

 

Yuta’s fingers have found purchase in Johnny’s shirt, grasping onto him like he’s a lifeline. He figures this is as good a time as ever to return home, before Doyoung causes a fuss, creates an accident, and in turn Yuta has an attack. Johnny’s hand soothes over Yuta’s back before he pulls away, eyes meeting Taeil’s.

 

“Do you mind if we go out the back?” he asks softly, careful not to overstep their boundaries in this precarious friendship they’ve fostered. “Just in case those men are still out there.”

 

Taeil’s head bounces in an exuberant nod, and in response or maybe in lieu of thank you, Yuta’s hand reaches out to squeeze Taeil’s own. It’s yet another tender moment that Johnny feels as if he should not be witnessing. The moment, as it turns out, ends before it can even begin. Yuta recoils again, hand tucked against his thigh, fingers fluttering nervously like a caged bird.

 

Taeil smiles sympathetically even though he doesn’t fully understand, because that’s the kind of person he is. He leads Johnny and Yuta through the twisting maze of the back room, the maze being comprised of mostly stacked boxes, all the way to the back door that leads to the alleyway. He holds the door open, eyes pooling with unconcealed concern.

 

Johnny musters the best reassuring smile he can, unsure of how well it can work when he himself is not that certain about the situation.

 

* * *

 

At home, Doyoung is sitting at the end of the table, eyes foggy with unrecognizable emotions while staring at his half eaten plate of food. Yuta’s heart aches at the sight, knowing exactly how the situation must have played out. Doyoung had been waiting for them while they were dealing with Johnny’s past catching up to him. Johnny peers at Yuta and gives an almost imperceptible nod.

 

Yuta lurches forward, throwing his arms around Doyoung’s neck in not an exactly comfortable way, but in what can only be described as desperate. He nuzzles his chin past his own arm, pressing his face into Doyoung’s shoulder. The younger, for his part, doesn’t seem all that phased, merely patting Yuta’s head gently as if he’s a big cat.

 

“You’re late,” Doyoung speaks softly into the still air of the kitchen. Johnny slips into the seat adjacent from Doyoung as soundlessly as he can manage, not wanting to penetrate the calm atmosphere of the kitchen.

 

“I know,” Johnny replies just as softly. “We’re sorry, Doie. We had every intention of being back in time but… Kun and Ten are in town.”

 

Doyoung’s head jerks up, nearly knocking against Yuta’s, but he doesn’t seem to notice. His already round eyes have widened even more, shock sparkling in them like tear drops. He leans forward, nose twitching, and in normal situations Johnny would tease him that this doesn’t help his argument that he’s not bunny like. This is far from normal circumstances, it could even be categorized as dire.

 

“Johnny…” Doyoung’s voice is but a mere whisper, brushing against the quietness of the atmosphere ever so reluctantly. It doesn’t take much for Johnny to know exactly what his counterparts are feeling, so it’s easy for him to pick up on the sheer terror Doyoung must be feeling. Yuta’s life was normal before, but not Doyoung, Doyoung has been living the same messed up life as Johnny ever since he was born.

 

“I’ll handle them, Dons. It’ll be okay,” he says, tongue darting out to run over his lips. It’s a nervous habit he has no control over and he figures it doesn’t help one bit in trying to reassure the boys.

 

Johnny’s past has been always been kept a mystery, sealed tight under lock and key. All he’s made Doyoung and Yuta aware of is the fact that it is far from bright and from the moments they catch him staring outside the window, a glossy look of pain on his face, they figure he wishes he could forget all together. Kun and Ten showing up are not a good omen, not only for Johnny, but for Doyoung and Yuta as well.

 

Yuta isn’t sure why, but there’s an overwhelming sinking feeling forming in the pit of his stomach and because of it, he buries his face deeper in Doyoung’s shoulder, inhaling his soothing scent. Doyoung absent mindedly pats Yuta’s head, mostly focused on Johnny still.

 

“What will you do?” Doyoung asks in the wavering kind of tone someone uses when they don’t really want to hear the answer to their question.

 

Johnny bites his lip, shakes his head. He’s just as reluctant to provide the answer to the question, mostly uncertain of what it is he’s going to have to do. The darkest parts of himself that he had buried away were supposed to remain with his old counterparts, and having Sicheng around had been bad enough. Kun and Ten might be enough to completely unleash the ugliest bits of his personality that are better off hidden deep down.

 

“They won’t bother you,” Johnny finally says, finality ringing in his tone. The last thing he wants is for Doyoung and Yuta to worry, they have too much going on in their lives already. He won’t let his haunting past ruin the life they’ve created for themselves.

 

The heavy sting in his chest prevents him from saying anymore, so instead, he turns and walks down the hall to his bedroom. Doyoung watches him with grief laden eyes and Yuta remains wound around the dark haired boy. Neither have any desire to move, stricken with the concept that if they do, their lovely reality might come crashing down, as if it isn’t already and hasn’t been for months.

 

* * *

 

Johnny insists on walking Doyoung and Yuta to campus Monday morning, and neither men object. That’s not the only part of their routine that changes, though. When the two sleepy eyed youngers stumble into the kitchen to put together breakfast, they find Johnny pouring coffee into travel mugs. They exchange looks, uneasiness settling in the air between them. Did this mean they would no longer be visiting Taeyong and Taeil at the coffee shop? They didn’t dare ask what with the way the muscles in Johnny’s back looked wound tighter than a coil.

 

On the tread to the campus, Johnny and Yuta lace fingers. The typical action soothes some of the spider like uneasiness that had been climbing all over his body, sending ice through his veins. Doyoung walks close enough to Johnny that their arms brush together, and while this is not as typical, it is comforting.

 

They’re over half way to the campus when they see them and Johnny comes to a halting stop.

 

Yuta peeks up at Johnny, not unlike a dog peeking at their owner silently in question, and Johnny doesn’t meet his gaze. Rather, him and Doyoung are both staring holes into the small group that has congregated at the edge of the sidewalk. Sicheng and Jaehyun have always had a penchant for lurking around, flashing honeyed smiles at passersby, flirting with unassuming young adults. Unfortunately, Kun and Ten are lingering right beside them, smiles just as sugary sweet.

 

“Johnny,” Doyoung’s voice is sharp with fear, but Johnny doesn’t feed into it. He swallows hard, rolls his shoulders back, then continues to walk, gently yanking on Yuta’s hand to propel him forward as well. Doyoung is somewhat more reluctant, fully aware of the threat the four men possessed, unlike Yuta.

 

“Youngho!” Kun purrs Johnny’s birth name as if it fits naturally in his mouth. Johnny can’t help the flinch that runs through his body. Doyoung’s fingers curl around Johnny’s wrist, and he can’t pin point if it is possessiveness or protectiveness that fuels it.

 

Ten’s eyes travel down the length of Johnny’s arm, and Jaehyun’s do the same, both of them seeming rather amused at the grip Doyoung has on it. Ten takes one step forward, lips tilted up slightly and eyes dancing darkly with embers of a long and powerful fire. Doyoung slips behind Johnny, lips popping open in shock.

 

“Ten,” Jaehyun berates his elder, something that Johnny questions silently. Since when did Ten ever let anyone tell him what to do? “I told you Doyoung was off limits.”

 

“My apologies.” Ten regards Doyoung like the gum on the bottom of his shoe before relaxing back into Kun’s grip, glowing once again. “Youngho, are you free today? Kun and I were hoping that maybe we could catch up with you. Wouldn’t it be lovely? Just like old times.”

 

“Don’t bother,” Sicheng’s voice is affronted, his gaze offended as he looks over Johnny. “Our old friend wants nothing to do with me, and I’m sure the feeling is mutual towards you two as well.”

 

Johnny’s jaw twitches as he snaps, “You tried to kill me, Sicheng!”  


“How many times must I explain that it was an accident!” Sicheng snaps back, his impatience waning thin, the beautiful facade he puts on fading just a little bit. Yuta seems taken aback, drawing closer to Johnny, and just as he’s about to curl his fingers in his shirt, a hand snatches Yuta’s back.

 

Kun’s smile is icey as he drops Yuta’s arm back by his side. “You shouldn’t touch something that’s not yours.”  


“I’m not property,” Johnny whispers, tears forming and his gaze simply horrified. He must have nearly forgotten what it’s like to be surrounded by Kun, Ten, and Sicheng at the same time, the three so waveringly convincing he almost finds himself falling back into them. “And you will not touch Yuta like that _ever_ again. He’s my friend.”

 

Ten looks prepared to argue this very point and Sicheng is glaring holes into the side of Kun’s head, clearly offended by the way Yuta has been handled. No one understands it, certainly not Yuta, but Sicheng is sweet on the ginger. Except, before the situation can escalate any further, a harsh voice cracks through the air.

 

“Johnny, are they bothering you?”  


Johnny pivots to face the owner of the voice, and it’s none other than Oh Sehun, accompanied by Bae Joohyun and Krystal Jung, who look equally as mystified and annoyed as the young male. Johnny has never been more thankful at the fact that Yuta forced him into making friends.

 

Krystal eyes both Ten and Kun with disdain, as is her usual expression towards anyone but her friends. “Were you on your way to campus? We can finish the walk with you,” she offers, her words having underlying meanings. Joohyun edges up right next to Krystal, smile frosty. Jaehyun and Sicheng meet them dead on, but Ten and Kun deflate, finding themselves outnumbered.

 

“That’s a great idea.” Doyoung interjects, clearly too impatient to wait for Johnny to respond. “Thank you, noona. We should go, so we won’t be late.” He tugs on the bottom of Johnny’s shirt, silently urging him forward. Johnny’s eyes are locked on Kun though, who is regarding his targets with longing.  

 

Yuta feels a shiver climb up his spine, but he joins Doyoung in urging Johnny forward, Krystal sliding on the other side of Yuta protectively. Joohyun does the same to Doyoung while Sehun strides several feet above Johnny, clearly having no intentions to slow down for anyone or anything at all.

 

“Catch you later then, Yuta?” Sicheng’s voice catches in the wind, but still very clearly audible. Yuta winces but Krystal rests a hand on his arm that ensures he doesn’t do anything other than continue walking, makes sure he doesn’t do anything stupid.

 

When their a decent distance away from the men that manage to chill any area they enter, Sehun slows before them causing the rest of them to fall suit. When he turns around his usual resting face of bitchiness is fierce, eyes blazing with protectiveness and maybe something even akin to fear.

 

“Do you wanna tell me what that was about, Johnnyboy?” Sehun inquires, quirking one perfectly sculpted eyebrow. Johnny swallows hard, hesitantly glancing at both Krystal and Joohyun, both looking just as perturbed and concerned.

 

Doyoung steps in, reaching around Johnny to squeeze Yuta’s slim hand. “Just some old friend’s of Johnny’s that apparently have ties to Sicheng and Jaehyun. No big deal, hyung.”

 

By the way Sehun’s eyes narrow, it’s clear that he doesn’t necessarily believe the lie that was spun out of half truths. He doesn’t press it though, merely nodding and continuing down the path, Krystal and Joohyun joining him at his sides now that they feel better about their younger friends’ safety.

 

The three that tread behind the elders share loaded looks with even heavier hearts, aware that no matter how things played out from there, it wouldn’t mean anything good.

 

* * *

 

 

Yuta freezes the moment he walks out of his Victorian History lecture, eyes round and full of shock at the sight that greets him. He should be anything but shocked, knowing full well the kind of life he finds himself caught in now, but for some reason the sight of Sicheng lounging against the brick wall of the building, eyes silently taunting Yuta, is too much.

 

Sicheng is in the exact direction that Yuta takes when he goes home, starting down the path on the right to meet Doyoung or Johnny or both at the tree in the center of the courtyard. Yuta’s nails scrape against the soft flesh of his wrist as he tightens his grip around himself (it’s soothing, Doyoung had been the one to teach him), and in a split moment decision, turns and begins the opposite way.

 

“Do you and your friends really believe that running from your problems ever works?” Sicheng asks from behind Yuta and from the sound of foot falls, Yuta can tell that he’s following him. He quickened his pace, digging his hand into his pocket in search of his phone to call Johnny. Johnny knew Sicheng once, maybe he could get Sicheng to leave Yuta alone once and for all. “ _Yuta,_ it’s rude to ignore someone when they’re speaking to you.”

 

“I’m sorry,” Yuta utters softly as Sicheng slides into place next to him, matching Yuta’s pace perfectly. Sicheng tilts his head, something like acceptance in his eyes but Yuta can’t place if the acceptance is towards his apology or him as a person. “I really have to go…”

 

“You’re going the wrong way.” Sicheng punctuates his statement by gripping Yuta’s arm, steering him back around in the proper direction. Yuta briefly wonders if Sicheng can hear the pounding of his heart, confined against his chest. He wants to ask how Sicheng knows that Yuta was going the wrong, but feels that it’s a stupid question. “How long have you lived with Johnny and Doyoung?”

 

“A while,” Yuta responds shortly. His eyes refuse to focus on Sicheng, darting everywhere but the man walking beside him.  He takes in the emerald of the grass, the grey clouds forming in the sky, the bunny across the path with the twitching nose that reminds him of Doyoung.

 

“You don’t have to be afraid of me,” Sicheng says much softer than Yuta has ever seen him as. Yuta peers at him through his eyelashes, drinking in his milky skin and dark eyes and plump lips. Sicheng is, undeniably, beautiful. He knows this from the many times he’s caught himself staring at the man or the many times he’s haunted his dreams, but it’s not a fact he’ll admit aloud.

 

“I’m not afraid,” Yuta speaks slowly, wanting to make sure that Sicheng catches every word he’s about to say. Sicheng watches his mouth with rapt attention, tongue darting out to run over his own lips. “I’m fucking _terrified._ Please leave me alone.”

 

Sicheng’s eyes darken, and his hand darts out to grab Yuta once more, but before the action can be fulfilled, Kun arrives at Sicheng’s side. It’s odd, how Kun without Ten is almost like looking at Kun missing a limb. Kun slips his arm through Sicheng’s, tugging gently and muttering something much too quiet for Yuta to catch.

 

Sicheng nods, runs his eyes over Yuta, then leads Kun away, away from Yuta, down the other side of the path. The pull in Yuta’s stomach, the one that always tries to tug him towards Sicheng no matter how far he is, solidifies and creates a heavy leaden feeling in his bones.

 

Once again, Yuta keels over and empties the contents of his stomach.

 

Once again, it is Dong Sicheng’s fault.

 

Across town, confined to his small bedroom, Johnny writhes in his bed. His skin boils, sweat dripping off him and drenching his bed sheets. Tears soak the collar of his shirt and cheeks, stinging where they leave a trail. He gasps, desperate for air in his lungs, desperate for _relief._ This isn’t an unfamiliar sensation to Johnny, but it certainly has been years since he’s experienced it so awfully.

 

He presses his face into the soft cotton of his pillow, heart wrenching sobs tearing through his body in great heaves. He grips the edges of his mattress, his fingers aching to tear at his skin and tear away the memories that won’t leave. It’s easy to suppress the centuries of his past that’s better left forgotten when the subjects of those memories remain continents away.

 

He forgets how easily it is to fall back into Kun and Ten, to be completely consumed by them. For once, he entertains the idea of allowing it. What if he indulged himself this once? Just for one night, what if he fell back into their bed, back into their arms?

 

Another sob racks through his body and that is his answer. He can never become that man again, be that man with them.

 

That doesn’t mean he can’t reminisce, though.

 

_Bangkok, Thailand, 1982. The last time._

 

_Despite the scratchiness his skin is coated in due to the sand that sticks to his body like a second skin, Johnny can’t help but feel comfortable. The sand is crystalline, almost white, and it’s clear against his dark hair, the small flecks dotting throughout the glossy strands. The sun warms his pink cheeks and he knows that Kun will probably scold him in their room later that night for not being more careful._

 

_The world fears them, whispers stories and legends about them, and yet it’s almost ironic that Kun just tries to make sure they get by safely most days. Would the masses still whisper about them if they knew how truly kind hearted they were?_

 

_A strip of wetness runs up the side of his neck, and Johnny doesn’t haven’t to crack open his eyes to find the source of it. His hands easily find the divots at Ten’s waist, pulling the smaller boy onto his chest and pressing a sweet kiss to his forehead._

 

_“Oh so you’re awake?” Ten teases, nuzzling his nose against Johnny’s firm chest. Ten is lithe, small, and compact, but Kun and Johnny are just built a little more muscular than him, and Ten doesn’t mind at all, in fact he enjoys it greatly._

 

_Johnny merely hums in response, lulled into a state of bliss by the waves crashing on the shore and Ten's body heat pressed against him like a warm blanket. It's almost too hot out to be so close together, but for Ten, Johnny will bare it. Ten could reduce towns into nothing but ashes, but if Kun or Johnny denied him love, the wobbly lip would make an unwelcome appearance._

 

_After a moment of Ten just resting his head on Johnny's chest to listen to his heartbeat, Johnny shifts and asks, “Where's Kun?”_

 

_“Bar,” Ten mumbles shortly, his words garbled enough that Johnny knows he's reaching the tantalising edges of sleep, sinking into the inky pits of dreams. He smiles softly, fingers entwining with Ten's oil slick hair and caressing, bringing a small mewl from Ten's mouth._

 

_Moments like these, moments where the rest of the world falls away and Ten naps on his chest like a small kitten with Kun slowly approaching, mouth glossy from spit and vodka, Johnny knows it's going to be okay._

 

_At least, that's what he had thought in the moment._

 

Doyoung finds Johnny ensnared in his sheets, blood and tears staining his clothes and sheets. He’s frozen at the sight, eyes wide, but relieved that his friend is at least asleep now. He reaches out with a shaky hand and brushes hair away from Johnny’s face, exhaling shakily.

 

The words, “You should head home early, trust me,” and dimpled cheeks flash through his mind and Doyoung finally realizes that him and his friends are truly damned.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you can contact me at my twitter which is @nneptuness !! you can also find my curious cat there


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